Page 4 of Billionaire Boss's One Night Stand

“To sell baby bottles and diapers and shit?” I huffed. “Why? Does she have a ton of kids to be able to speak from experience?”

He shook his head, but he didn’t lose his enthusiasm. “No. I think she’s probably too young to have a ton of kids. But she’s bright, Matt. I’m telling you. I’veneverfelt so confident about offering a job to someone like I was with this woman.”

“If she’s so young, how can she know anything?”

“Trust me,” he said, nodding once as he stood from the chair across from me. “She’ll do well.”

I hope.

He wasn’t wrong. Picking up a client like Gammon would really be something else. As a hefty bonus, we’d be putting Aaron DuPont and his company to shame. I’d never cared for the weasel. We’d been instant enemies ever since attending Havard together. Now, it was like swimming with sharks in the corporate world.

I’d have to wait for another opportunity to talk with my friend about getting Gammon as a client. Or anything else. Behind him, I caught sight of my grandmother approaching my all-glass office door. While it provided zero privacy, having all glass walls and doors—at least on this executive floor where my place was—it felt freeing. Transparency was key in the business world, and I knew without a doubt that I had nothing to hide in here.

Including my presence for my grandmother to prey on.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked as she rapped her knuckles twice, quietly, on the open door.

John turned around, smiling at her. Most were afraid of the top boss here at Richards Consultation. He’d been around long enough to know her in and out of the office, recognizing her not only as our boss, but also as the relative of his best friend.

“Wendy,” he greeted. “Am I in the way?”

She shook her head, and not a single gray hair swayed with the motion. As always, she was put together, not a single detail out of place. “No. Never, John.” She faced me, almost smiling. Showing emotions seemed to be a personal flaw to her, and as such, she never dared to expose that much about herself.

Prim. Proper. Head held high, hands clasped in front of her, and back ramrod straight. My grandmother was a stern businesswoman with high expectations, and I could see why many would be intimidated.

But not me. I was probably the only person in this entire building who would ever take the risk of asking her forsomething. And it was time for me to try that feat again. Daily, I asked about the implication that she’d retire soon, that I’d be promoted to CEO in her place.

“I wished to speak with Matthew for a moment,” she said plainly.

“Oh, no worries.” John backed up, holding his hands in the air like a surrender. “I was just stopping by to gossip?—”

“Gossip?” she drawled, smirking.

“About Gammon dropping DuPont.”

“Ah.” She took another step toward my desk. “That’s notgossip. That’s nothing more than sharing news. Facts.”

John nodded as he reached the door. He pulled it with him to close it after his exit, but not before parting with more words. “And good news, potentially, for us!”

Once we were alone, but easily seen through all the walls and doors, my grandmother took the seat he’d vacated. “Do you agree?” she asked coolly, simply, as though we were discussing the weather or something else mundane and bland.

“Do I agree with what?”

“That Gammon shopping around is potentially good news for us.”

I smiled, dropping my feet from the elevated massager shelf beneath my desk. I swore to God, those rolling balls and kneading bars that spun worked miracles on my feet.

For fuck’s sake. I’m only thirty-eight. Not sixty-eight.With all these aches and pains, I was either working out too hard in infrequent bursts to set myself up for strains or I was cooped in the office for too long.

“Yes, I do agree with that. John and I were just talking about how exciting it is that they’re displeased with DuPont.”

She allowed a slight hint of emotion now. A minor huff and faint roll of her eyes showed me what her opinions were of ouroldest rival. They mirrored mine. Any chance to stick it to the DuPont firm was a thrilling opportunity.

“I’m not surprised,” she replied calmly. “They slacked and didn’t provide good outcomes for the last big campaign they hired them for.”

I nodded, but I rubbed my chin, pensive about her comment. “But they are still retaining them for some work.”

“Of course. They will keep their options open, perhaps waiting to see if they’ll wizen up.”

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